


Avenger's 500

by MoMoMomma



Category: Captain America, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Character Death, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Masturbation, No I Didn't, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, So many of these damn things, Why can I not write happy things?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off the massive 500 prompt table, different avengers for different prompts. Some fluff, some crack, some angst, and hopefully even some passable smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt Masterlist

**Author's Note:**

> So my muses are going nuts trying to balance out the boys from my other stories, so I needed something to clear my head out a bit. And of course, because I'm me, I found [this massive thing](http://luna-moonsilver.livejournal.com/31568.html) and decided to take a swing at it. I'm still working on all the other series so do not despair and, as always, enjoy!
> 
> Note: The Prompt Masterlist at the beginning will get filled out as I complete the prompts; as always I welcome suggestions and pairings for future prompts so feel free to speak up if there's something you want to see!

1\. Tragedy- Past Steve/Howard

2\. Serenity- Past Steve/Howard; Bruce/Natasha; Tony/Thor; Clint/Coulson

3\. Heartbreak- Clint/Natasha

4\. Euphoria- Past Steve/Howard

5\. Blessing- Clint/Coulson

6\. Unbearable- Bruce/Natasha 

7\. Stupid- Unrequited Clint/Coulson; Steve/Phil

8\. Jumbled- Tony/Rhodey

9\. Growl- Phil/Hulk Friendship

10\. Forgotten- Steve/Phil

11\. Desperate-Tony/Phil

12\. Crave- Bruce-centric

13\. Abandonment.

14\. Lust.

15\. Apoplexy.

16\. Spirit.

17\. Destined.

18\. Power.

19\. Dying.

20\. Born.

21\. Magic.

22\. Ghost.

23\. Haunted.

24\. Misery.

25\. Terror.

26\. Child.

27\. Innocence.

28\. Horror.

29\. Birthday.

30\. Missing.

31\. Found.

32\. Kidnapped.

33\. Stolen.

34\. Liar.

35\. Devil.

36\. Prayer.

37\. Tears.

38\. Hospital.

39\. Laughter.

40\. Grave.

41\. Night.

42\. Stalker.

43\. Monster.

44\. Blackout.

45\. Stranded.

46\. Alone.

47\. Scream.

48\. Stab

.49. Lost.

50\. Ferocity.

51\. Knight.

52\. Savior.

53\. White.

54\. Midnight.

55\. Crimson.

56\. Horse.

57\. Walk.

58\. Unfamiliar.

59\. 'Run!'.

60\. Arms.

61\. Lunge.

62\. Fling.

63\. Love.

64\. Clasp.

65\. Cling.

66\. Leap.

67\. Tantrum

.68. Explode.

69\. Moan.

70\. Crush.

71\. Hard.

72\. Soft.

73\. Murmur.

74\. Whisper.

75\. Erie.

76\. Wrong.

77\. Shiver.

78\. Burn.

79\. Cold.

80\. Tremble.

81\. Drink.

82\. Sing

.83. Kick.

84\. Fight.

85\. Sleep.

86\. Gun.

87\. Mafia

.88. Sneer.

89\. Attached.

90\. Tiny.

91\. Foundling.

92\. Planet.

93\. Moon

94\. Stars.

95\. Scare.

96\. Joke.

97\. Rain.

98\. Water.

99\. Caution.

100\. Gone.

101\. Breathe.

102\. Suffer.

103\. Agony.

104\. Asphyxiation.

105\. Intentional.

106\. Accident.

107\. Mistake.

108\. Surprise.

109\. Miniscule.

110\. Iota.

111\. Movie.

112\. Favorite.

113\. Slap.

114\. Book.

115\. Cuddle.

116\. Curl.

117\. Bite.

118\. Nibble.

119\. Caress.

120\. Ego.

121\. Stroke.

122\. Sword.

123\. Gleam.

124\. Blinded.

125\. Heard.

126\. Blink.

127\. Kitten.

128\. Job.

129\. Parents.

130\. Sad.

131\. Past.

132\. Story.

133\. Babble.

134\. Ravage.

135\. Welts.

136\. Hole.

137\. Wet.

138\. Parched

139\. Hideous.

140\. Horrific

141\. Putrid.

142\. Sick

.143. Save.

144\. Rescue.

145\. Demolish.

146\. Tease

.147. Hung

.148. Sneak.

149\. Sweets

.150. Distortion.

151\. Breathtaking.

152\. Sigh.

153\. Shaking.

154\. Ruin.

155\. Miracle.

156\. Weather.

157\. Trauma.

158\. Disaster.

159\. Storm.

160\. Severe.

161\. Numbers.

162\. School.

163\. Lessons.

164\. Sobbing.

165\. Wail.

166\. Refusal.

167\. Punishment.

168\. Runaway.

169\. Danger.

170\. Capture.

171\. Release.

172\. Imprison.

173\. Collar.

174\. Cage.

175\. Kajira (Gorean slave girl).

176\. Whip.

177\. Kiss.

178\. Tongue.

179\. Lick.

180\. Kneel.

181\. Command.

182\. Master.

183\. Play.

184\. Bedroom.

185\. Toys.

186\. Blanket.

187\. Smirk.

188\. Roll.

189\. Shove.

190\. Push.

191\. Thrust.

192\. Pound.

193\. Disguise.

194\. Fool.

195\. Shock.

196\. Abyss.

197\. Vast.

198\. Startle.

199\. Unmanageable.

200\. Straight.

201\. Emerald.

202\. Sky.

203\. Beginning.

204\. Ending.

205\. 'Whatever'.

206\. 'Never'.

207\. 'Finally'.

208\. Swoon.

209\. Collapse.

210\. Faint.

211\. Ruse.

212\. Jitters.

213\. Excitement.

214\. Apprehension.

215\. Spelling.

216\. Disgusted.

217\. Year.

218\. E-mail

219\. Month.

220\. Long. 

221\. Letter.

222\. Correspondent.

223\. Pathetic.

224\. Illegible.

225\. Dash.

226\. Time.

227\. Fantasy.

228\. Relax.

229\. Projection.

230\. Astral.

231\. Belief.

232\. Strength.

233\. Ravenous.

234\. Island.

235\. Wild.

236\. Cruel.

237\. Ocean.

238\. Dune.

239\. Waves.

240\. World.

241\. Roast.

242\. Itch.

243\. Need.

244\. Bound.

245\. Escape.

246\. Self-loathing.

247\. Figuratively.

248\. Bonding.

249\. Mask.

250\. Snarl.

251\. Vulnerability.

252\. Broken.

253\. Sunset.

254\. Vacuum

.255. Chasm.

256\. Horizon.

257\. Vacant.

258\. Latched.

259\. Macadamia.

260\. Antidisestablishmentarianism.

261\. Kumquat.

262\. Weakness.

263\. Summon.

264\. Glow.

265\. FALSE.

266\. Truth.

267\. Bones.

268\. Heat.

269\. Thirst.

270\. Destructive.

271\. Nuisance.

272\. Sister.

273\. Bonkers.

274\. Spaghetti.

275\. Angel.

276\. Demon.

277\. Arch.

278\. Thunk.

279\. Bop.

280\. Lavish.

281\. Murder.

282\. Rumor.

283\. Groaning.

284\. Smother.

285\. Hide.

286\. Scoop.

287\. Debris.

288\. Suck.

289\. Favor.

290\. Squeal.

291\. Goodbye.

292\. 'Why?'.

293\. ’Mine'.

294\. Gaze.

295\. Grace.

296\. ’Tomorrow'.

297\. ’Someday'.

298\. Amnesia.

299\. Potion.

300\. Medication.

301\. Scrunch.

302\. Message.

303\. Lover.

304\. Words.

305\. Bombard.

306\. Flood.

307\. Haste.

308\. Rush.

309\. Gasp.

310\. Shatter.

311\. Shards.

312\. Girl.

313\. Silent.

314\. Flame.

315\. Healing.

316\. Footprint.

317\. Snow.

318\. Waiting.

319\. Hands.

320\. Gentle.

321\. Lie.

322\. Warmth.

323\. Coming.

324\. Spring.

325\. Breeze.

326\. Ripple.

327\. Lake.

328\. Salty.

329\. Billow.

330\. Cloud.

331\. Fly.

332\. Grounded.

333\. Wings.

334\. Fallen.

335\. Thread

.336. Limp.

337\. Motionless.

338\. Torture

.339. Insanity

.340. Revelation

.341. Astounding.

342\. Lift.

343\. Broken.

344\. Worthless.

345\. Comfort.

346\. Seeking.

347\. Annoy.

348\. Exasperation

.349. Smile.

350\. Game.

351\. Smack

.352. Whack.

353\. Peek.

354\. Listen.

355\. Box

.356. Poke.

357\. Prod.

358\. Upside.

359\. Cocked.

360\. Evil.

361\. Bounce.

362\. Misgivings.

363\. Dread.

364\. Over.

365\. Rely.

366\. Procrastinate.

367\. Stall.

368\. Snort.

369\. Cigarette.

370\. Fire.

371\. Smoke.

372\. Ash.

373\. Cemetery.

374\. Hold.

375\. Cry.

376\. Belch.

377\. Typical.

378\. Lord.

379\. Survive.

380\. Castaway.

381\. Table.

382\. Row.

383\. Column.

384\. Surrender.

385\. Argument.

386\. Indecision.

387\. Lightning.

388\. Acid.

389\. Breakfast.

390\. War.

391\. Frown.

392\. Spoil.

393\. Morning.

394\. Define.

395\. Music.

396\. Dance.

397\. Scurry.

398\. Cower.

399\. Recoil.

400\. Pounce.

401\. Gathering.

402\. Guide.

403\. Guardian.

404\. Flirt.

405\. Flaunt.

406\. Follow.

407\. Inebriate.

408\. Whine

.409. Forest.

410\. Shower.

411\. Arrow.

412\. Eagle.

413\. Grieve.

414\. Anguish.

415\. Territory.

416\. Struggle.

417\. Grope.

418\. Inhale.

419\. Exhale.

420\. Final.

421\. Spit.

422\. Glass.

423\. River.

424\. Gold.

425\. Servant.

426\. Tarot.

427\. Grumble.

428\. Leech.

429\. Nightingale.

430\. Challenge.

431\. Bereft.

432\. Cover.

433\. Undo.

434\. Icy.

435\. Wind.

436\. Crack.

437\. Toss.

438\. Gathering.

439\. Restrain.

440\. Glide.

441\. Stumble.

442\. Deliverance.

443\. Blurt.

444\. Exhaustion.

445\. Temptation.

446\. Protect.

447\. Cave.

448\. Camp.

449\. Accumulate.

450\. Boat.

451\. Victory.

452\. Battle.

453\. Loss.

454\. Lather.

455\. Care.

456\. Tackle.

457\. Tickle.

458\. Obstacle.

459\. News.

460\. Benign.

461\. Myriad.

462\. Kaleidoscope.

463\. Moving.

464\. Prompt.

465\. Name.

466\. Daughter.

467\. Warrior.

468\. Fireworks.

469\. Snuggle.

470\. Fade.

471\. Holiday.

472\. Celebrate.

473\. Nag.

474\. Overcome.

475\. Stiff.

476\. Pillow.

477\. Fireplace.

478\. Fur.

479\. Suspicion.

480\. Trust.

481\. Lack.

482\. Dependent.

483\. Scribe.

484\. Significant.

485\. Comet.

486\. Roar.

487\. Intervention.

488\. General.

489\. Romance.

490\. Sprint.

491\. Goad.

492\. Flaw

.493. Multitude.

494\. Gateway.

495\. Sadistic.

496\. Masochism.

497\. Damaged.

498\. Breathless.

499\. Marshmallow.

500\. Control.


	2. Tragedy: Steve/Howard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The nation called it a tragedy when he died."

“The nation called it a tragedy when he died.”

Steve’s head rose at the sound of Tony’s voice and he swiped at his cheeks with quick motions, wiping away the tears that had tracked down them. He turned his head to see the man standing there, dressed to the nines as always, and the thought of _like father, like son_ formed a new ball in his throat.

“Was it?” He croaked out, remembering Pepper telling him Tony and Howard hadn’t been close.

The billionaire shrugged noncommittally, staring down at the two immaculate gravestones and the roses Steve had laid on Howard’s. The man had never let him buy him any while he was alive, said they were too prissy of flowers to stand being in a lab and he’d want to keep them close if he’d gotten them. The look on his face was unreadable, helped by the fact that Tony’s dark aviators blocked out a good portion of it. God, like this…he could almost pass as Howard and Steve looked away lest he start sobbing like an idiot.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

“As much as I could, as much as he would let me.”

“Don’t imagine Dad was too fond of having a guy hang on him.”

“No,” Steve corrected, irritation and anger replacing the sadness as he glared up at the man. “Howard didn’t give a damn. But he said that Captain America, that I, was too important to have people look down on him for who he loved.”

Tony seemed surprised by this and looked away, glancing over the landscape around them. Steve reached a hand out and traced the letters of Howard’s name in the silence, fingers lingering on the last name he often promised he’d give to Steve as they lounged in bed, stolen moments during a war. In those moments he’d call Steve by that name, and Steve’s breath always caught at the look of pure joy in Howard’s face when he said it.

“I suppose, to some, it really was a tragedy.” Tony murmured and there, kneeling in the grass in front of his lover of months and decades ago, Steve found he couldn’t agree more.


	3. Serenity: Past Steve/Howard; Bruce/Natasha; Tony/Thor; Clint/Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serenity was hard to find.

Serenity was hard to find. It was a never-ending chase, always catching it’s coattails as it disappeared around the corner. And that was for normal humans. For the Avengers it was quite harder, their lives a mish-mash of agony and sadness and, in rare moments, joy and laughter. But never serenity. Their jobs, their lives, their very personalities would not lend themselves to the feeling of being in such a state of peace, no matter how much they wanted it.

But, as Steve glanced around the room, he saw striking differences to the reality and the fantasy.

He saw the monster curled with the assassin, her hands stroking slowly through his hair as he ran gentle fingers, always so gentle with her, up and down her side. He saw the genius batting playfully at the god, the bigger man laughing with an ease as he returned to stroking around the metal circle, electricity bouncing from it to his fingers. He saw the archer reach up from where he lay sprawled on his agent’s lap and pull the man down for a kiss, fingers of the opposite hand curled around the dog tags he’d been handed before the lie had been found out.

In that moment, it was the closest any of them would ever get to serenity and as Steve stood there observing, he thought he felt the brush of a hand across his ribs, thought he smelled cologne long gone, could have sworn he heard the chuckle of days gone by. He let the wave of peace wash over him, savoring every second. Perhaps serenity was not attainable, maybe peace was not an option, but as long as they had moments like these, stolen between screams and blood and battle, Steve figured they’d find a way to make it work.


	4. Heartbreak: Clint/Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I guess...maybe I just don't understand."

“I guess…maybe I just don’t understand.”

The words slipped out unbidden and Clint wish desperately he could pull them back as he watched Natasha pack her things. She stopped for a moment, straightening and meeting his gaze evenly. Clint ignored the way his heart dropped at the sight of her blank face.

“We were never meant to be together, Clint.”

“Because of what? You? Me? Help me understand where this went so wrong.” He demanded, gesturing between them, anger slowly setting in.

It disappeared when she merely shook her head, heartbreak creeping back in at the lack of answers. He stood by silently as she finished packing and, giving one last brush of her lips to his cheek, walked out of the door and out of his life. Clint stepped forward and threw himself into the bed, burying his face in the sheets. It proved to be a mistake when the smell of her perfume, the smell of their lovemaking, tunneled into his nose and gripped his heart. He clenched the sheets in his hand and tugged them to his chest, finally allowing himself to cry.

Heartbreak was something people in country songs sang about, something young girls sobbed to their mothers over. Clint had always thought it foolish, what was the point in caring so much about someone who didn’t care about you? But lying there, holding the only remaining memories of his time with her, alone in the room that had once been their sanctuary, feeling as if every beat was going to be the one that tore the organ from his chest, Clint found that if it was foolish then he was the biggest fool of all.


	5. Euphoria: Past Steve/Howard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve was on cloud nine, the first time he’d been so happy since he’d woken up and found everyone he ever loved was gone forever.

Steve was on cloud nine, the first time he’d been so happy since he’d woken up and found everyone he ever loved was gone forever. He stretched on the bed and paused the video with a tap to the keyboard lying next to him. Howard’s face on the screen froze, a smile tugging at his lips the way it had when he was teasing Steve for being naïve. Steve reached out and traced his fingers over the lips he’d kissed so often he could sketch them with his eyes closed, the coolness of the screen nothing like the heat of Howard’s skin.

Tony had found these tapes, unearthed them when he went looking in his childhood home for things Howard had left behind. The genius had told him that watching him cling to the last little bit of Howard he’d had, a handkerchief with the man’s initials sewn into it, was getting on his nerves and had proceeded to bring him everything he had left of Howard, dumping it in the entranceway of his room. Steve could swear he saw a bit of happiness in Tony’s eyes when he’d fallen to the floor, pulling open boxes and picking up letters like he was a child on Christmas.

The tapes had been what had sent Steve from happiness to euphoria, buried underneath the old top of his first uniform, the one Howard had fisted in his hands and used to drag Steve into their first kiss. The same one he’d hastily shoved down while Howard lay on the cot, stroking himself with an amused grin at Steve’s enthusiasm. The very same top Howard’s cum had splashed onto when he’d gotten a bit better at sex and made the man come without being touched for the very first time.

In them, Howard was talking to Steve, sometimes frustrated that he couldn’t find him, sometimes over-joyed because they’d found _something_ even if it wasn’t him. Sometimes he looked into the camera as he stroked his cock, and it seemed like Howard had gotten _bigger_ as he’d aged, and told Steve, in detail, exactly what he was going to do if by some miracle he found him alive.

Steve saw Howard age through the tapes, but his favorite one by far, barring of course the ones where he got to see his lover cum again with Steve’s name on his lips, was the one taken soon after Tony was born. Howard ranted and raved about how beautiful Tony was, how you could already see the intelligence in his eyes, how he was going to be ‘amazing, Steve, just you wait. My boy’s gonna take the whole world by storm.’ Steve would show that one to Tony, if he ever got the chance, show him that even if Howard had been cold, he’d loved Tony just as much as any father did.

The other’s though….they were private. Even if Howard was fully clothed, the idea of sharing this euphoria with anyone else turned his stomach. He’d sacrificed enough already, Steve figured he had the right to be selfish just this once.


	6. Blessing: Clint/Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint rubbed sweaty palms on his pants before he leaned on the doorbell of the old Colonial, stepping back a respectable distance once he’d taken his finger away.

Clint rubbed sweaty palms on his pants before he leaned on the doorbell of the old Colonial, stepping back a respectable distance once he’d taken his finger away. Butterflies coiled in his stomach at the sounds of movement from the inside and he barely resisted the urge to bolt.

This was important. This was _so_ fucking important and if he screwed this up, he screwed everything up.

The porch light flickered on above him and Clint held his breath as the door was tugged open, revealing a handsome older man, hair completely white but still thick, combed over in a familiar style.

“Can I help you, son?”

“Mister Coulson, I’m Clint Barton and I’m here to ask for your blessing.” He blurted out, knowing if he waited he’d never get the words out and this whole thing, scheduling time off, hiding his destination from Phil, getting Stark to give him a car without the third degree, would be for naught.

The man paused for a moment before folding his arms and leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb, looking at him with a speculative face.

“For who?”

The question threw Clint for a moment and when he righted himself he wanted to bash his face into one of the porch posts behind him. Phil had mentioned growing up with siblings, and even said something about a few nieces and nephews running around. Clint swallowed hard, remembering that Phil had told him his father had been very accepting when he’d come out, his only rule being the reason why Clint was here. If he wanted to marry Phil, he had to get his parent’s blessing.

“Phil, sir. I’ve been dating your son for three years now and I would like your blessing to propose.” He answered, digging into the pocket of his jacket and bringing out a ring box, opening it before holding it out to the older man.

He took it and looked it over, hopefully seeing what Clint had seen the day he’d picked it out. It was a simple thing, a solid platinum band with a ring of black diamond’s running through it that sparkled like fire during the daytime. But it fit Phil’s personality, unassuming but incredibly beautiful in the right light. The man finally nodded and handed it back, stepping backwards as Clint’s stomach sank once more.

Great, he’d screwed something up. Maybe the ring wasn’t expensive enough? Maybe his dad looked at Clint and saw the ex-carnie fuck-up he’d tried to scrub away in the shower before coming? Hell, maybe he just didn’t like the way Clint was standing. Instead of slamming the door shut in his face, the older man called over his shoulder.

“Maria, one more for dinner, sweetheart.”

“Who is it? Who’s at the door?”

His dad smiled, waving a hand to gesture Clint in before he answered the kind voice that had shouted from the back of the house.

“Phil’s future husband.”


	7. Unbearable: Bruce/Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living with the monster was unbearable, a burden that shook his resolve and made him consistently question his motives and emotions.

Living with the monster was unbearable, a burden that shook his resolve and made him consistently question his motives and emotions. Living with other people that _knew_ there was a monster within him was only marginally more so.

Oh, they tried, some very hard in fact, to act like it didn’t bother them to share a dinner table or living room with a time bomb. But every time something exciting would happen, Bruce could always see the quick glance from the corner of an eye, the slight stiffening of the shoulders nearest him. No one trusted him, not really. They all pretended to, but somehow that was worse.

Well, not all of them.

Natasha was obvious about her distrust, about her wariness. She didn’t try to hide that she shifted away from him, that she preferred to be opposite the room if at all possible. Bruce had overheard more than one of their fellow teammates talking to her about it, urging her to try to get to know him.

Maybe better that she didn’t.

See, the Other Guy knew Natasha. He’d seen her when he’d come to life, heard her voice as the last words before the rush of anger and rage that was his mind during a fight. He had labeled her as a threat, something to be eliminated, something to shy away from as much as she did to them.

And that had worked out…until right now.

“Um…can I help you?” Bruce asked, blinking owlishly at Natasha, trying vainly to adjust his eyes to the halogen bulbs of the hallway after having only seen the insides of his eyelids for the last hour.

The red head shifted slightly, not in discomfort but more in a readjustment of one’s stance, something one did out of habit. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, staring at him with the blank mask he’d only seen fall a couple of times.

“I need to come in.”

Bruce nodded dumbly, moving out of the way to let her pass and swinging the door partway shut, leaving her an out if she needed one. He followed her, mouth gaping open for a moment when she perched comfortably on the end of his bed, before he snapped it closed and snatched up his shirt from where it was draped over the edge. Bruce went to pull the fabric on when she held up a hand, stopping him.

“Don’t. This will work better if you’re unclothed. In fact, get naked.” She ordered, Bruce standing there like an idiot before spinning and blinking at the ceiling when she rose and tugged at the hem of her own shirt.

“You have to look at me for this to go correctly.” Natasha said wryly from behind him and Bruce steeled himself, reminding himself that he had seen more flesh exposed in more ways than he could count when he was on the run, that a teammate nude was nothing to be ashamed of.

He turned and at her impatient gesture slipped off both his boxers and soft cotton pants, stepping out of them just as she let her bra fall to the pile on the floor, leaving her nude as well. Bruce fell back into his pattern of relaxing breathing in an attempt to keep himself from getting an erection, a task made infinitely harder as she prowled the short distance towards him. He finally stepped backward when she rose up a hand, reaching towards his chest.

“I’m sorry, but what are we doing here?” He snapped, feeling the Other Guy shift beneath his skin at the heart rate jump that had occurred when she’d moved.

She bit her lip for a moment before exhaling a long breath and gesturing between them.

“I’m afraid of you. I’ve never been afraid before. It’s not…acceptable. I have to be able to do anything at any time for any member of the team and I can’t do that if I’m afraid.” She explained, finally looking distinctly uncomfortable, crossing her arms over her stomach.

Bruce nodded in understanding. So that was why the no clothing; without the barriers of clothes, not only could she instantly see any touch of green, she could also see him as a man, not just a vessel for a monster. He assumed her being nude as well was her way of making this whole situation even.

“It’s unbearable.” He whispered and she nodded sharply, still looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“Exactly. So shall we?”

This time, when she raised her hand up, Bruce stepped into it, letting her feel his heartbeat under her fingers. As she explored his body with light touches, Bruce found that there was something much scarier than having someone distrust him; having someone _want_ to trust him.

That, the idea of creating bonds, lasting friendships, relationships even, that was a dangerous path. And the idea of traveling it was…unbearable.


	8. Stupid: Steve/Coulson; Unrequited Clint/Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint wasn't stupid, despite what the rumor going around SHIELD said.

Clint wasn’t stupid, despite what the rumor going around SHIELD said. Yeah, he had trouble reading shit sometimes and maybe Bruce and Stark going on too long about science stuff gave him a headache, but when it came down to important things, he was really fucking smart actually.

Sometimes, he really wished it was the other way around.

He swallowed tightly and watched Phil laugh at something Steve had said, the Captain placing a companionable arm around his shoulders. Clint knew the slight shift of Phil’s shoulders to fit a bit more neatly under Cap’s arm had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that SHIELD HQ seemed to think heat was a luxury, just like he knew that the thumb Steve was rubbing rhythmically over the Agent’s bicep wasn’t unintentional.

Clint turned quickly, making his way back to Phil’s office and scooping up the package of donuts he’d left there, crumpling up the note asking Phil to dinner and sticking it in his pocket just as the two men entered the room. They separated when they saw him, Coulson shooting him a curious look.

“Forgot my donuts.” He explained with a goofy smile, wiggling the package in mid-air.

Phil shook his head at him, already moving behind the desk and settling in to do the stack of paperwork Clint had perched the donuts on top of. Steve hovered uncomfortably in the doorway, clearly wanting to stay but not being able to find a good enough reason to that would stand up to someone else. The archer made sure he didn’t have to, offering up a cheerful goodbye to both of them before walking off. He tossed the donuts at the nearest recruit he saw once he’d gotten far enough away from Phil’s office, the note in his pocket weighing his steps down.

Only a stupid man would compete with _Captain America_ for someone’s affections and, as previously stated, Clint wasn’t stupid.


	9. Jumbled: Tony/Rhodey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were drawbacks to being a genius.

There were drawbacks to being a genius. One of the main ones was that while other people tried to process four or five thoughts at once, Tony Stark tried to process four or five _hundred_ all at once. Occasionally it worked out for him, but usually it all ended up jumbled and confusing, leaving him with a pounding headache and an aching jaw from grinding his teeth. The thoughts used to drive Tony, as a child, into his bedroom, hiding under the blankets in a ball and waiting for either the pulsing in his head to stop or the pain to finally make him pass out.

It got marginally better after his parents died, as shitty as that was. The depression helped stop a lot of the thoughts, and the drugs and drinks did even more so. Sex helped a bit, but it usually brought along a whole new slew of thoughts beforehand.  The thoughts simply never stopped, he never found a way to turn all of them off completely…

Until his senior year at MIT.

It was then that he stumbled out the backdoor of the bar, only keeping all the alcohol he’d swilled down by sheer force of will. The thoughts spinning through his head of what the hell he was going to do after graduation, how he was going to have to go back to an empty house, how the only woman who’d ever loved him had been destroyed by a freak accident had his head pounding, vision bouncing with every new rush of blood. The thoughts were screaming, all competing for airspace and just when Tony thought he couldn’t handle it anymore and he was going to pass out a hard hand caught him around his arm and they…stopped.

Tony looked up, trying to figure out what in the hell to do with the sudden silence in his brain, into the eyes of a man in a military uniform looking at him like he was an idiot. The same man had drug him back to his dorm room, batted away every hand Tony tried to stick down his pants and put him to bed, Tony falling into sleep easily with the same silence in his head. When he woke up the next morning he’d gone on a manhunt for that man, skipping three of his classes before he found him and got the silence back once more, proving it wasn’t just a fluke.

Years later, curled up against Rhodey’s chest with the sweat from their love-making cooling on their skin, Tony would tell Rhodey the story of the silence and how he was pretty sure he’d fallen in love with him the first moment the man had grabbed him all those years ago. Rhodey would laugh and tell Tony he was an idiot, but in reality, he felt the exact same way.


	10. Growl: Coulson/Hulk Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hulk didn’t mean to scare the lady in the pink, didn’t mean to growl out loud at her, but when he saw how Agent Man backed up when she came towards him he couldn’t help it.

Hulk didn’t mean to scare the lady in the pink, didn’t mean to growl out loud at her, but when he saw how Agent Man backed up when she came towards him he couldn’t help it. Agent Man protected Hulk, made sure Ross didn’t come after him anymore. He was a friend, even to Stupid Banner, and Hulk knew that you protected friends.

He scooped up Agent Man and carried him away from the Pink Lady and her strange speaking stick and strode towards where the others were standing, watching with amusement. Stupid Banner tried to say something but Hulk ignored him, setting Agent Man down once they had reached the team. He brushed off his suit before looking at Hulk and saying ‘thank you’ in a kind voice. Hulk growled once more, this time a little softer, a little more affectionately, hoping his tone got the message across.

The soft pant on his leg and the smile Agent Man gave him told Hulk he understood just fine.


	11. Forgotten: Steve/Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gone But Not Forgotten

_Gone But Not Forgotten_

Steve blew out a shaky breath at the words that rang through his head, reaching out a trembling hand to brush over the names carved into the marble. It was a hot July day, and the hundreds of people milling around only added to the temperature, and yet the marble was cold under his hand.

Or maybe it was his flesh that was cold.

He looked down the line of stone names, smiling softly at the sights. Mothers holding up infants to brush against a name, elderly women hanging onto their sons arms as they touched letters reverently, a small girl pointing out a line to an even smaller boy, a smile stretching across their faces. A familiar black suit further down the line had Steve stepping backwards from the stone and making his way through the crowds, finally coming up beside the man just as he was standing from placing a trading card on the ground. Steve blinked at it for a moment, seeing that it was one of his, before Phil turned, smiling blandly at him, holding another trading card close to his chest.

“Captain. I’d say it’s a surprise to see you here, but that wouldn’t be true.”

Steve smiled back in response, gesturing to the wall in front of him where a quick scan had located a Thomas Coulson at chin level.

“Father?”

The agent shook his head, hands falling to the sides and turning back towards the wall.

“Uncle, my mother’s older brother. My father worked quite a bit, so he was basically my male role model. He, ah,” Phil chuckled, the sound hiding a soft hitch of breath. “He actually gave me my first Captain America trading card.”

Steve smiled softly, stepping up beside Phil and leaning cautiously against him, the grin widening when the man leaned back. He slowly moved his hand until he could capture Phil’s, the card pressed between their palms.

“Will you tell me about him?”

“I…would love to.”


	12. Desperate: Tony/Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark was desperate.

Tony Stark was desperate. That is the _only_ reason he was doing this, the only reason this thought had ever entered his mind. His hands were shaking, his thoughts were going haywire, his entire body was starting to fuzz out on him. Tony knew he had _maybe_ another couple of minutes before everything started going downhill, and fast. He was too far away from the Tower, out too late to get any anywhere else.

He collapsed against the side of the house, bringing his hand up and banging on the door with the last of his strength. Tony could feel his eyes starting to close, the darkness he had been fighting so desperately starting to seep in at the corners of his vision. He clutched onto the door jamb as it swung open, panting and shaking his head in an attempt to stay conscious. Coulson stuck his head around the jambs, hair mussed from bed, shoulders covered only in a thin white tank top. He raised an eyebrow at Tony, looking him up and down with the same expression on his face that a socialite would have if a homeless person tried to talk to them.

“Can I help you, Mr. Stark?”

Desperate. Only option left.

“Coffee.” Tony muttered, swinging himself around and colliding with Coulson, letting the Agent catch his body.

Coulson had sworn at him in about ten different languages and drug him inside like he was an old mattress, but twenty minutes later Tony was sitting on a very comfortable couch with his second cup of Coulson’s delicious ambrosia infused coffee, smiling at the scowling man.

“This is fantastic.”

“I’m so happy you approve. Get out of my house.”

Tony pouted at the man. “But I haven’t finished my cup of coffee.”

“Take it. Take the mug and when you’re done with it you can shove it up your—“

“Agent!” Tony gasped in mock offense. “Your language!”

Phil narrowed his eyes.

“It’s 2:15 in the morning. I went to bed two hours ago following an eighteen hour shift. I was woken from my sleep by a billionaire in full coffee withdrawal banging on my front door. Proper language is not my concern at the moment.”

“I could blow you in gratitude.”

“You could also exit my house by way of the front window.”

Tony huffed and buried his face back in his mug, hiding his grin at the slight upturned corners of Coulson’s mouth.

Desperation. Not such a bad thing after all.


	13. Crave: Bruce-centric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touch is one of the most basic human needs.

Touch is one of the most basic human needs. A child who is given sunlight and food and water will still wilt if not given human touch. Humans need it as much as they need air, despite what rebellious teenagers who shook off their parents hugs would proclaim. People who go without touch tend to have incredibly negative psychological and sometimes even physical side effects.

Touch is partly the reason Bruce acts as a doctor in the countries he runs through.

Doctor’s always get to touch people, even if they’re just chatting with them. People think nothing of grasping a doctor’s hand or forearm while telling them what’s wrong. It’s innocent, Bruce has never touched a person who didn’t want to be touched nor has he ever gotten any sexual thrill out of the touches. But after the accident, after growing up learning that all touches mean pain and hurt and screams, Bruce craves touch in the ways a smoker craves that next inhale.

Once he got pulled into the Avengers Initiative, once they saw up close the destruction the Other Guy could do, he expected to be imprisoned. The idea of being put in a cage wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the reality that in that cage he could touch no one, could _be_ touched by no one. To his surprise, Tony had exercised his considerable control and somehow gotten SHIELD to release Bruce to live at the tower with him. Slowly the other Avengers had moved in as well, either simply appearing one day like Natasha did, or bursting into the room from an outside balcony to proclaim here was where they would make their home like Thor had.

And Bruce’s fears of not being touched suddenly…disappeared.

The Avengers, for all the reasons they had not to be so, were actually very physical people. Tony was always moving his hands, always touching something, even if it wasn’t a thing but rather a person. The first time Tony had been chatting with him, pointing out some equations, and had moved his full body into contact with Bruce’s to reach an equation Bruce had nearly jumped out of his skin. Now he simply adjusted his stance so that Tony was comfortable and reveled in the touch.

Clint was just as prone to touching, thinking nothing of stealing sips from Bruce’s tea and slapping him on the back or arm. Thor, of course, slung arms across Bruce’s shoulders after fights, booming about the highlights of the battle. Natasha would often curl up on the opposite end of the couch from him, seemingly not going to touch him. But ten minutes into whatever show or movie she’d picked her toes and feet would wriggle their way under his thigh. Steve would sketch them when there was downtime and absently shift their hands or feet back into correct positions when they moved to take a drink or go to the restroom.

Bruce Banner had gone his whole life craving touch, wanting it and yet so scared so often to merely ask for it. To reach out to another human being, or God, and touch simply because he _wanted_ it. The first time he did, the first time everything seemed too much, he froze, staring blankly at the hand he’d captured within his own. The room didn’t seem to notice, neither did the man sitting on the other side of the woman who whispered his name. Bruce looked up into Pepper’s eyes and she smiled softly, squeezing his hand once before going back to the conversation. From then on, Bruce felt like touch wasn’t something he had to ask for, wasn’t something he had to earn.

And for once in his life, Bruce felt satisfied.


End file.
